Anyway, under these strange circumstances, Lin Yun and his companions set off toward Karak-Azgaraz, accompanied by a Greenskin Orc carrying a Butchering Axe.
The two Dwarf towns were only about two days apart. If they marched at a brisk pace, they could reach their destination in a day.
But Lin Yun and the others weren't in any particular hurry.
So the journey was fairly pleasant.
The Greenskins were mostly concentrated around the outskirts of the Gray Mountains.
Although they could still make their way here through some strange passages,
overall, things weren't nearly as troublesome as before.
Lin Yun didn't have enough status to warrant a king coming out to greet him, so that sort of thing should have been...
Lin Yun stared, dumbfounded, at the entrance to Azgaraz.
A figure stood there wearing a Horned Helmet set with a Ruby about half the size of a fist. A long, gray beard hung down to his chest, and he wore heavy armor.
But he wasn't carrying a weapon.
If Lin Yun remembered correctly, this was already a fairly high level of hospitality.
After all, the Dwarf King was different from a human king.
In truth, the Dwarf King was more like a clan chief who had risen to the rank of king because the Dwarves already had clan chiefs.
From one perspective, though, he was still the chief of all chiefs.
And because Dwarves were a martial people,
they didn't wear royal robes or other expensive finery when receiving guests.
They simply put on their armor. Of course, that suit of armor was undoubtedly more valuable than any fine clothes.
It was a sign of Dwarven respect.
And now, ranks of Ironbreakers stood on either side, looking like hulking piles of muscle. Lin Yun couldn't help feeling a little overwhelmed